Are You Sick?
by Svarthane
Summary: Bella is sick with more than the common cold, and has Edward worried. Written in 2 POVs!
1. Bella POV

Are You Sick? BPOV

Ough. My throat felt as if someone had poured gasoline down my windpipe, along with a lit match. It was on fire, making it difficult to swallow, burning each time I did. My head felt so heavy, my lungs weighed down with mucus. All the **Tylenol** and mucus medicine in the world couldn't make me feel better. My whole body hurt, it was tired and it took more energy than it should, for me to move. I tried sleeping. I tried **Melatonin**, but it wouldn't work. All I could do was lay in my bed and try not to move. That didn't work either. Within 5 minutes I was sitting on the edge of my bed, restless. There wasn't much I could do, while being sick. But I knew I wouldn't be by myself for too much longer. _He_ would be here any minute. Any second. Any-

"Bella?" He stood outside my bedroom door for a minute or two. It creaked open, he stood there, still, like a game show prize.

"Come in Edward." My voice sounded so raspy and uneven. I hope he wouldn't notice. If he did, he didn't let on that he knew. He strolled in, giving me a kiss, before sitting on my old rocking chair.

"Feeling casual today, love?" Must've noticed my messy hair. Well, it was hard to miss. I probably looked like a complete wreck.

"Ah hah. Yeah, I guess so." I joked, trying to maintain a sick free, look as I (dizzily) went to my dresser to get a hair tie. My messy hair was put into a messy bun, all together it looked like a big clump on the top of my head.

When I turned around, not completely satisfied with my blob of a hair-do, his eyes became stuck on mine. My "not sick" charade, failed quickly when I stumbled dizzily back to my bed. His arms caught me, letting me get some balance. I gently pulled away from his arms, sitting back down on the edge of my bed.

"Bella, are you feeling alright?" I looked away quickly. Worried and Edward did _not_ go together. So I lied.

"I'm fine. I just stumbled, that's all." The look he gave me told me, that he didn't buy my lie at all. I swallowed nervously. Ow. "Ok..so I'm not fine." He seemed to sit up straighter, possibly in potential panic.

"What's wrong?" Worry and concern was written all over his face. I shrugged.

"I'm just sick. A cold or something." He shook his head at me.

"No that's not what I meant. I mean _what's_ wrong? What hurts?" I knew my answer would only make him worry more, but...

"Everything. My head, my throat feels like it's on fire. And my lungs-"

"What do they feel like? On a scale from one to ten how b-" Woah woah, slow down! I put my hand up, trying to stop him from his massive questions.

"Edward, they aren't going to burst. They're just weighed down with mucus. It does make it difficult to breathe, though."

"You're having trouble breathing?" Maybe I should have phrased that differently. His fingers clutched the arms of the chair so tight, it surprised me that it didn't crumble from his strength.

"Only a little bit." The over-worried, somewhat frantic look in his eyes made me swallow nervously. Ow.

"Perhaps I should take you to the hospital." Ugh. No no no. The last thing I needed was unnecessary actions. His eyes were reckless in worry.

"Edward relax. This isn't Spanish Influenza, here." It seemed impossible for him to tone down, and just be calm. His eyes went from worry to pain, from memories this probably brought back for him. In that instant, I felt like a huge jerk.

"Colds can _kill_ people Bella. I should know." I smiled. My throat's fire prickling its way along the sides, I tried clearing it with a cough. Ow.

"I know you know." My voice, still raspy, was becoming hoarse, reducing itself to a scratchy whisper. I tried clearing it again. "But this isn't 1918."

Edward sighed, he seemed frustrated. "I know that Bella. But something like a cold shouldn't be underestimated." I felt an ice cold hand, press lightly on my forehead. It felt nice. "You're burning up. Have you taken anything?" I nodded, making the room spin. Dizzily, I grabbed onto his arm for support, until everything settled down, and quit spinning.

"I think I should lay down..." My words were drowlsy slurred together, but I knew his perfect ears had heard me. He layed on the bed, pulling me to his chest, the coldness of him seeped through his cotton shirt. It felt so good. I tried concentrating on how nice he felt, cooling me off, since I doubted I would be able to sleep. I rested my head on his shoulder, trying to relax, and ignore the stinging that came from my throat.

"Feel better?" His arms tightened, slightly bringing me closer.

"Ah..I uh.." It cracked so badly, my voice. I couldn't make any words form. I soon felt glass press against my lips, cool water flowing in my mouth, letting me swallow without pain. Had Edward even gotten up? Or maybe I was so out of it, I hadn't noticed.

Hours passed and I hadn't slept during any of them. Even the numerous amounts of water filled cups I'd drank hadn't helped, much.

"Bella, love." His voice broke me from my daze, I turned my neck slightly so he knew I was paying attention. "I'm sorry if I panicked. I suppose it was pretty foolish for me to get so worked up. I just don't like seeing you so uncomfortabl, and knowing there isn't much I can do about it." He didn't have to do anything. This was enough. Knowing he cared about me this much, was enough. I was content with this. "But I can _do_ something now." I wanted to tell him not to worry, that this was more than enough for me, and that he didn't have to try so hard. I moved my neck upward, resting my hand on his face.

"I appre.." A gross, huge mucus covered cough, escaped my throat, destroying the calming effect the water had given me, igniting all the flames back to where they had started. "I appreciate your concern for me. But, the macabre kind of flu you had is nothing like what I have. It's just a cold." And it was, to my judgments, something he shouldn't be so worried about. Of course, going through something as horrible as the Spanish Influenza, isn't anything you'd forget, but surely he had to realize that was centuries ago. My voice, having been reignited, blazed with every word, determined to set my whole body on fire.

To emphasize my point (and to try and calm him down, even if it was the tiniest bit) I brought my lips to his, putting enough pressure on them, to hopefully let him know that I'd be alright. But my body lacked energy and I slumped against him, exhausted and immobile. My eyes grew heavy, and darkness enveloped my mind, drifting off to a slumber.

Heh-hau-heh.

Henh-hau-heh-hugh.

Heh...hengh-hau-hugh-hugh.

Who's terrible..._horrible_ ragi breathing was this? Edward's? _Mine_? I opened my eyes. My chest moved and I realized the horrible breathing, was coming from me. Why was it so bad and steadily quickening? Wait. I blinked a few times. There was no way this was in my bed. This was far too comfortable and strong for it to be.

"Edward?" It was so dark. I could barely make him out. But I saw his eyes lock onto mine. I tensed a little, noting that the too comfortable place, was his arms. I clutched myself to his shirt, slightly panicked. "Edward? Where are we? What's...going on?" The things whizzing past us in a blur didn't look familiar. His eyes looked away from me, straight ahead.

"I'm taking you to the hospital Bella. You're more sick than you thought." I tensed a little more. It didn't mean he had to _carry_ me there. "You'll be alright, love. I'll get you there, I promise." I couldn't say anything. My throat had gone stiff when he'd said 'more sick' and air was getting trapped, making me breathe unevenly. I soon weny back into a subliminal state, as darkness took another hold on me, everything going black.

When I came to, the first thing I noticed was how still I'd become. No movenment meant no arms, no arms meant no Edward. Everything was dark and my eyes were acting as if they were meropia. Everything was in a bad blur, the colours being fairly identifiable. My hearing began to weave out, and I noticed there were voices--people, near me. They hummed at first, fuzzy, until they became louder and easier to hear. "Will she be alright?" Someone said. I _knew_ this voice. My eyes strained themselves as I forced them to make sense of the coloured blur of a body to my left. "She will be, once the doctors can give her some more antibiotics. But for now, she should rest." The blur next to me nodded, shifting what I guessed was a chair, closer to me. My eyes were slits, only halfway open. Glossy and confused. That's when I felt something wonderful slide into my hair, and stroke it.

"Bella?" The voice sounded anxious. "Bella can you hear me? Are you there?"

'Of course I'm here' is what I wanted to say, but my throat was burning, not as bad as before, but it still hurt. Ow. The hand in my hair felt nice, the rythmatic stokes becoming their own pattern, weaving through my strands gently. I swallowed a few more times, ignoring the pain that followed.

"Edward?" I managed to whisper.

"Bella...are you alright? Do you hurt at all?" So, it was Edward. I should've known. My hand went to my throat, as if it would stop the fire, and put it out. It didn't, but thankfully Edward knew what I needed, and a cup of water was in my hands within seconds.

"How are you feeling?" I felt his hands lay leisurely on my lap.

"Fine, I guess."

"I called Charlie for you. He's been here for a while, but I told him to go home and rest, since I didn't think you'd wake up for a while."

I nodded, still drinking my water. Charlie could handle one night without me cooking. There were leftoevers in the fridge, so he didn't concern me. What did concern me was what happened to me. "What's wrong with me?" I asked, setting the empty plastic cup, on the table that connected to the bed. "Why is everything so dark and blurry?" Edward shifted, glancing over his shoulder, then bringing his face back to me, taking my left hand in his.

"It's dark because the lights are dimmed. You must be pretty exhausted, so that could explain the blurryness." He played with my fingers gently. I tried to scoot up, to sit straighter.

"Yeah. Ok. But what's going on? I mean, do I have a cold or what?" He shifted again, looking somewhat nervous.

"The doctors think that you might have Atypical Pneumonia." He didn't play with my fingers anymore.

"Aty..what?" What the heck was that? Was it bad? Deadly? Was I going to die?

"Atypical Pneumonia." he repeated. "It's a type of pneumonia that isn't caused like most cases. Antibiotics should help." What the heck was he talking about? It's not like I'd been to Medical school twice, like he had. "For the most part, I'm sure you'll be okay, but it could turn into something more. Something worse." Well, gee. That sure does make feel better. I frowned, glaring at him.

"Y'know, that's not really helping." Atleast lie to me, or something.

"Sorry, I know it must sound pretty bad. Probably worse, since I'm still worried about you." Why? I'm safe now. I'm with you now.

"What do you mean 'still'? I thought I was going to be fine." The hand that was playing with my fingers moments earlier, went into it's owners hair, ruffling it messily, before taking hold of my hand again.

"It's not so much for now. I meant before you woke up. You really frightened me, love."

One of my eyebrows arched. "Go on." He did look a bit...off, to be honest. Unsettled in some sort of way.

"Well, I thought you weren't going to wake up. Your breathing became really laboured, and your fever went up. For a few minutes your breath got short, and I thought I was going to lose you." His grip on my hand tightened, showing his worry. It began to hurt a little, but I didn't say anything. "I was debating on whether or not to change you right then and there." His grip loosened. He had almost changed me. A part of me strongly wished that he had so I could look worthy to be with him. But a part of me was also grateful that he hadn't. The scenarios of what would have happened if he had, played in my head. I felt myself yearn and retreat for it.

"Bella? I've probably scared you haven't I? I'm sorry it's ju-"

"No." The scenario was starting to go away, to be thought of some other time. "No." It made me a little sad to see it go since, I could have been living it, hours ago. "I'm not scared. Just...happy, I guess." Edward gave me a baffled look. "Happy to know you'd take care of me." But I knew he would. He would do anything for me. He was my entire world as I was his. "Really, I'm the one who should be apologizing. Must've given you a heart attack."

He chuckled, letting my hand go and moving it into my hair. "You have no idea." I smiled, a little, enjoying the good feeling his hand did to my hair. I still felt bad about worrying him so much though.

"I'm sorry." I mumbled, a little ashamed.

"About the almost heart attack? I'm just jesting, of course."

Of course, I knew that. Even if it was possible, I don't think I'd be able to give a dead heart a heart attack. "No. Well, yes, but...I know this must have brought back..scary memories." I didn't know how much of his human life Edward remembered. But I knew the memories he probably had weren't the best. As I realized this, I immeadiatly felt guilty and worried I had made him downcast. "It _did_ didn't it? Oh God, Edward! I'm so sorry I-" His eyes cut me off.

"Bella, it's not your fault. Getting sick is normal, it's not something you could control. I'm not blaming you." If it helped then blame me. Go right ahead. I don't care. Just so long as it pushes those memories away. He moved his hand out of my hair and gently squeezed my hand.

"So I did give you bad memories.." Maybe I was just getting hyped up and didn't really do anything wrong. My mind wanted me to be wrong. _I _wanted it to be wrong.

"_You _didn't. You could never give me a bad memory."

His franticness and attempt to subject change didn't convince me. "Then my sickness gave you bad memories." If that was what was making him so downcast and weird, I would do anything to never get sick again. So I wouldn't have to see that pained look in his eyes.

"It made me think about a few things." Few things or everything? "But you're different. Your sickness is different. I didn't feel bad at all." His thumb stroked the side of my hand, while his other layed--more like gripped--his knee.

I almost snorted. "You're not as good a liar as you think you are. Y'know that?" He could have been telling the truth, but my gut made me think otherwise.

"You think I'm lying?" Right now, yes. "You think I would lie to you?" Ugh, the way his eyes were looking at me, made me wish I had never said anything. They made me want to have kept silent and never doubt what he had said. They-

"Well...you're right." I blinked twice. Edward..._my_ Edward. Looked like he was on the brink of tears--if he could cry, that is. I knew he'd lied to me before (for good reasons, apparently) but this was completely different. This lie was protecting _him_, not me. My free hand began to shake a little, as I thought about how I was crossing into things that ought not to be crossed. "I'm sorry I did, but I get kind of..defensive when it comes to certain things." _Kind_ of? The last time we'd spoken about something he didn't want to think of, he sliced the TV in half. "I couldn't help it. I know I shouldn't compare you to my parents...or me. I guess I'm being foolish to think that way. Idiotic, to say the least." He gripped his knee even tighter than before.

"Edward? ...Edward." I took his hand off his knee, and held it in my hands. I tried to give him a reassuring smiled. "Just...forget it, okay? All that matters is that you're here with me, by my side, and that I'll be fine. _I'll get better_." My lips met his hand softly.

"Yes." He seemed to come out of his downcast bubble, reassuring more to himself, rather than me. He kissed me gently. "That's what matters most" I returned his with a kiss of my own, not wanting it to end, but my lungs made it clear that I needed to breathe. He pulled me away a little, but I kissed his cheek before I could be fully settled back. I smiled as I looked at him.

"I'll be better in no time."


	2. Edward POV

"Are You Sick?" EPOV

The breeze blew past my face and into my hair, tossing it every possible direction there was. But, my hair was always messy, and where I was headed, my hair would be the last thing on my mind.

I made it to her house through the woods in record time. Instead of going through her window, since it was technically still daytime, I went through the front door. A change of pace was good every now and then. I quickly went up the stairs and took a deep breath before knocking on her closed bedroom door. Her scent was...off. Different. It concerned me, as I lightly tapped.

"Bella?" I called out softly. I eased the door open, and stood still, trying to get a better look at things.

"Come in Edward." Was that really Bella? Her voice sounded so raspy. Like nails on a chalkboard. I tried to act calm as I came in, giving her cheek a kiss before settling into her rocking chair. She sat on the edge of her bed. To be honest, she didn't look well. Her hair looked like a failed perm, sticking out everywhere, full of tangles. Her eyes were dark underneath. Almost bruise-like. Had she gotten paler? Before I let my thoughts overwhelm me, I decided to start some sort of conversation. I forced myself to lean back a little.

"Feeling casual today, love?" From the way her eyes bulged she might have caught on to what I was thinking-or so I thought.

"Ah hah. Yeah, I guess so." I laughed inwardly. She was a terrible liar. When she stood up and began to make her way to her dresser, I found myself capable of only watching her as she walked. She turned around after grabbing a hair tie, and my eyes went from her toes to her face, maily her eyes. They weren't full of life like I was used to. They looked drained and dead. Her balance was increasingly worse-which is really saying something-she stumbled as if she'd begun walking yesterday. I was able to catch her before her face met the bed rail. She pulled away, sitting back on the edge, her shoulders slumping. Her eyes weren't the only thing drained. It looked like her entire body was about about to fall over. I took another deep breath.

"Bella, are you feeling ok?" She looked away quickkly obviously noticing my tone of voice and began to fidgit.

"I'm fine. I just stumbled, that' all." Stumbled? Yes, straight into a bed rail, almost. No human's balance was _that_ bad, even if it was Bella. "Ok..so I'm _not_ fine." I tensed instantly. 'Not fine' didn't settle well with me, especially when it came to her. I tried to remain calm.

"What's wrong?" My concern was written all over my face, but I didn't care. Her slumped shoulders shrugged.

"I'm just sick. A cold or something." Well duh, I could tell that much just by looking at her. I shook my head.

"No that's not what I meant. I mean _what's_ wrong? What hurts?" She paused before answering.

"Everything. My head, my throat feels like it's on fire. And my lungs-" I began looking at her more intently than before. I started spinning questions at her, some I barely remembered being asked to me.

"What do they feel like? On a scale from one to ten how b-" She put her hand up, stopping me.

"Edward, they aren't going to burst. They're just weighed down with mucus. It does make it difficult to breathe, though." I clutched the edges of the rocking chairs arms, trying to keep from lunging myself at her.

"You're having trouble breathing?" My grip tightened.

"Only a little bit." She swallowed in a way that looked painful. Hearing her not being able to breathe upset me. Her staying here would only make it worse.

"Perhaps I should take you to the hospital." Worridly I looked at her.

"Edward relax. This isn't the Spanish Influenza, here. It's just a cold." I hadn't been comparing what she had to that, but now that she had brought it up, I couldn't help but picture her in her own little cot. Her death bed. I quickly pushed the thoughts away, deeming them ridiculous and tried to focus.

"Colds can _kill _people Bella. I should know." A small smile came from her, a hurtful cough following it.

"I know you know." Her voice was worse. She tried clearing her throat which also looked painful. "But this isn't 1918."

I sighed. "I know that Bella. But something like a cold shouldn't be underestimated." She looked so worn out. I didn't want to make whatever she had worse, from unintentionally stressing her out. Gently, I went over to her, placing my hand on her forehead. It felt hot--I mean, Bella always felt warm to me, but this didn't feel familiar. Too warm for a human. "You're burning up. Have you taken anything?" Her dizzy nod was all over the place, and she grabbed my arm, becoming still. For a moment I thought she would vomit.

"I think I should lay down..." Even in her speech, the dizzyness was there. But yes, lay down. Sleep it out. In one flawless move I crawled on her bed, pulling her fragile body against me. She relaxed almost instantly and rested her head on my shoulder.

"Feel better?" I tightened my arms around her, bringing her closer. Maybe my cool skin could bring her fever down.

"Ah..I uh.." Her voice cracked terribly. I wouldn't leave her side if I could help it, but this would be quick. I dashed downstairs and came back, water filled cup in hand all in the same second. Carefully, I eased the rim of the cup to her lips and she drank gratiously. I resumed my spot beside her, watching for any signs of improvement-or the opposite, for hours. I'd lost count. Whenever Bella needed water, I'd get it and curl up next to her as if I had never left. It was quiet, most of the time. The only thing I listened to was her heart and breathing (not that I minded). The silence also gave me time to think.

"Bella, love." I made sure she was awake. "I'm sorry if I panicked. I suppose it was pretty foolish of me to get so worked up. I just don't like seeing you so uncomfortabl, and knowing there isn't much I can do about it." For a moment, I paused. Remembering vaguely my parents. My human self, weak and helpless. "But I can _do_ something now." I was no longer weak and helpless. I would do everything in my power to help her. I looked down as she moved upward, placing a fevered hand to the side of my face.

"I appre.." A terrible cough came out, before she tried again. "I appreciate your concern for me. But the macabre kind of flu you had is nothing like what I have. It's just a cold."

How many times was she going to say that? 'It's just a cold.' 'This isn't 1918.' The one thing that the two shared was the possible outcome-and I'm not being overdramatic. This could end very badly if she just left it like it was. Bella's usually soft lips touched mine. But her lips weren't soft. They were dry, overheated, and rough. Not too long after she started kissing me, she went limp, I let her hand lay on my wait motionless.

At first, I got worrid. But her heart (along with her small snores) told me she was asleep. Good. She needed it.

While she slept, I began thinking about what to do. Obviously I couldn't let her stay here and allow her 'cold' (as she was so fond of calling it) worsen. Out of habit, I began to stroke her hair, becoming more intune with her breathing. She was much easier to focus on when she slept. Then, she began coughing. Gently, at first. But it became increasingly worse. "Bella?" I picked her halfway off the mattress, hoping she could cough up whatever it was, but she didn't. Instead I heard her breathing pattern go crazy. It acted like dominoes, one breath coming on before the original could finish.

'_She can't breathe!_' my mind screamed. I picked her all the way up, laying her head against my neck, gently easing out the window, and sprinting as fast as I could to the hospital.

Each time my foot touched the ground, I would try and go faster, and faster. "Heh-hau-heh" her breathing was bad. Terrible. "Henh-hau-heh-hugh" Yes, that's right. Keep breathing. Don't stop. I went quicker, not caring if anyone saw me. I'd risk everything if it meant she'd be well. "Heh...hengh-hau-hugh-hugh" It was starting to get shakey and more laboured.

"Edward?" She squinted her eyes, too dark for her to see me. I looked at her, not paying attention to what I could run in to. Her hands grabbed my shirt. "Edward? Where are we? What's...going on?"

I looked away. She looked...horrible. The person I held, was not my Bella. "I'm taking you to the hospital Bella. You're more sick than you thought." More than I wanted to believe. Her body tensed at my words. "You'll be alright, love. I'll get you there. I promise." I'd be dammed (no pun intended) if she would die on me. I would go against what I wanted, and change her if it came down to it. She started breathing unevenly, before she passed out.

Getting Bella into a room asn't too hard, when you burst in, holding a girl who looked like she'd kick the bucket any minute. Plus, it helped if your father was one of the head doctors, who just so happened to be working. Carlisle's scent was easy to find, he came to me when I'd almost walked into him. His eyes focused on my face and Bella's limp body.

"What happened?" His voice was calm.

"She's very sick." Was all I could say. For me to tell him everything would take too long. Carlisle nodded, leading me to a private room, taking Bella out of my arms, and placing her into a hospital bed. He didn't look at me when he spoke. "Call Charlie and let him know what's going on, while I get her settled."

I walked a little ways down the narrow hallway, a dial tone already playing. Charlie's gruff voiced answered. "Charlie, it's Edward." I heard him 'arumpf'.

"What is it?"

"Bella's sick. She's at the hospital." He breathed in, probably going to ask a bunch of questions--like most humans do when told such things--but I cut him off. "Carlisle is taking care of her. We aren't sure what it is, but they're allowing visitors, so you can come down, if you want. She's in room 402." Click. I snapped my phone shut, stowing it in my front jean pocket as I made my way back to her room.

She looked so strange with monitors all around her. Not that I hadn't seen her like this before. She'd also had monitors when James had crushed her leg. But she looked more like a robot, if anything. I eased my way onto a chair, next to her, my eyes taking her in. As soon as I did, I looked away just as quickly. She reminded me of my Mother. Her pale skin. Dark circles under her eyes. The way her hair even layed, sprawled out like my Mother's had--or so Carlisle's memories had once shown me. The image I imagined, of Bella on her own little cot, flashed in my head. Fiercely, angry at myself for even thinking such a thing, I shook my head, trying to get rid of it all.

20 minutes passed, when Charlie entered, pulling a chair next to me. I began explaining what she'd been like earlier today, how her breathing had settled down now, and that Carlisle could talk to him and answer anything I didn't. All I got from him was a single slow nod. He stayed for 2 and a half hours, before I suggested he go home and rest (after I promised to call him as soon as I knew something). Which I did, thanks to Carlisle's thoughts, but I would tell Charlie all of it later. There was only so much a human could withstand before they broke.

"Will she be alright?" He was headed towards the door. I remained seated.

"She will be, once the doctors can give her some more antibiotics. But for now, she should rest." He nodded again. I gave my own nod back, scooting closer to Bella. I began stroking her hair. I hoped that what I said had been true. I hoped she would be fine...better than fine. Perfect. Please.._please_ let her be okay. Please..let her come back to me. I'll do anything. My thoughts were pleading. Who was I pleading _to_? I asked myself, when I noticed Bella's eyes were halfway open.

If my heart was alive, it would have skipped a beat. "Bella?" Anxiousness leaked out. "Bella can you hear me? Are you there?" I saw her lips twitch slightly. She could hear me. I continued to stroke her hair, waiting, until she spoke.

"Edward?" Her voice was barely a whisper. I tried to sound calm.

"Bella...are you alright? Do you hurt at all?" I watched as her small hand hesitantly touched her throat. Thankfully, I had a few cups of water nearby and was able to give her what she needed quickly. "How are you feeling?" My hands rested on her lap, as she drank quietly.

"Fine, I guess." Her voice was still quiet.

"I called Charlie for you. He's been here for a while, but I told him to go home and rest since I didn't think you'd wake up for a while." She took a few more sips in response, nodding.

"What's wrong with me?" Her now empty cup sat on the connected table. "Why is everything so dark and blurry?" I looked over my shoulder, shifting a little, taking a look around. Carlisle's thoughts entered my head, explaining the real reasons. The lights were dimmed because of the stress it could cause her eyes, after being stressed out enough already. Everything was blurry from the antibiotics. She'd woken up clueless, the least I could do was make everything easier to deal with.

I gently took hold of her hand that was closest to me. "It's dark because the lights are dimmed. You must be pretty exhausted, so that could explain the blurryness." I began to play with her fingers, careful not to break any of them by accident. Her attempt to sit up failed.

"Yeah. Okay. But, what's going on? I mean, do I have a cold or what?" There she goes again, calling it a cold. Didn't she realize that it couldn't possibly be a cold now? Carlisle's thoughts entered. He must've been listening nearby, out of sight. '_Atypical Pneumonia_' ringed in my ears. It wasn't deadly, but Pneumonia was bad in any case. I shifted back to her nervous.

"The doctors think that you might have Atypical Pneumonia." I stopped playing with her fingers.

"Aty..what?" A chuckle almost cam out of my mouth. She sounded so cute when she was confused.

"Atypical Pneumonia." I repeated, my voice softening. She still looked confused so I continued. "It's a type of Pneumonia that isn't caused like most cases. It's a less severe form. Antibiotics should help." My explanation had made her more confused, apparently. "For the most part, I'm sure you'll be okay, but it could turn into something more. Something worse."

She frowned and started to glare at me a little. "Y'know, that's not really helping." I laughed silently. Nice choice of words Edward. Not.

"Sorry, I know it must sound pretty bad. Probably worse, since I'm still worried about you." Worried was an understatement. In truth, Bella still had me in a panic. Even if she was beside me now.

"What do you mean "still"? I thought I was going to be fine." Perhaps I shouldn't have said that outloud. I ruffled my hair taking a deep breath.

"It's not so much for now. I meant before you woke up. You really frightened me, love." No. Not frightened. She'd made me absolutely _terrified_.

She arched one of her dark brown eyebrows. "Go on."

I had to say this right. In a way that didn't freak her out. "Well, I thought you weren't going to wake up. Your breathing became really laboured, and your fever went up. For a few minutes your breath got short, and I thought I was going to lose you." Correction: I thought she was going to die before I could save her. I thought she was going to leave me, my moonless night of a life returning before I could follow her afterwards. "I was debating on whether or not to change you right then and there." I looked down, noticing I was holding onto her hand, a little to tightly. My grasp loosened. Her face was impassive.

"Bella? I've probably scared you, haven't I? I'm sorry, it's ju-"

"No." She was staring blank. "No." she said again. "I'm not scared. Just...happy, I guess." Uhm..._what_? Was she joking? "Happy to know you'd take care of me." Of _course_ I would. She was my entire world. "Really, I'm the one who should be apologizing. Must've given you a heart attack." That made me chuckle. If anyone could make a dead heart come close to dying again, it was Bella. I moved one of my hands, back in her hair.

"You have no idea." The smile she had set me at ease, slightly.

"I'm sorry." She mumbled.

"About the almost heart attack? I'm just jesting, of course."

"No. Well, yes, but...I know this must have brought back..scary memories." I could feel her eyes on me. My eyebrows were up, a small shiver went down my spine. I didn't look at her, afraid the image of her, a recreation of my Mother, on her death bed would appear again. "It _did_ didn't it? Oh God, Edward! I'm so sorry I-" I forced my eyes to look at her. Maybe I could change th subject.

"Bella, it's not your fault. Getting sick is normal, it's not something you could control. I'm not blaming you." Gently I squeezed her hand.

"So I did give you bad memories.." Subject change: Fail. Try again.

"_You_ didn't. You could never give me a bad memory." Please, just drop it.

"Then my sickness gave you bad memories." She wasn't going to leave this alone, was she? I didn't like where this conversation was headed, nor did I want to continue it.

"It made me think about a few things." Lie. It made me think about _everything_. From Carlisle's memories to the very little ones that were my own. "But you're different. Your sickness is different. I didn't feel bad at all." My calm demeanor was starting to crumble. My thumb stroked the side of her hand, as if it could calm my thoughts. The other, gripped my knee.

"You're not as good a liar as you think you are. Y'know that?" I nearly choked on air I didn't need.

"You think I'm lying?" I grabbed my knee tighter. My demeanor was crumbling faster. "You think I would lie to you?" Piece by piece it crumbled. I'd lied to her before for her own well being. "Well...you're right." Memories were going through my head, non-stop. The ones that were my own were blurry, seen through weak human eyes, but they still had a powerful effect. The only reason I'd lied this time, was to protect myself. "I'm sorry I did, but I get kind of..defensive-" Was that the right word to use? "-when it comes to certain things." I didn't wait for her reaction. "I couldn't help it." No. I chose not to. "I know I shouldn't compare you to my parents...or me. I guess I'm being foolish to think that way. Idiotic, to say the least." Absentmindedly, my knee was being gripped tighter, my knuckles turning white.

"Edward? ...Edward." She took my hand off my knee, my will diminishing by her touch, and held it in her hands. Her reassuring smile was sweet, but I was stuck in past thoughts. "Just...forget it, okay? All that matters is that you're here with me, by my side, and that I'll be fine. _I'll get better_." She kissed my hand.

Oh. "Yes." My mind was reeling forward. She wouldn't share the same fate my parents had. Like I almost had. I kiddsed her gently. "That's what matters most." I smiled as she kissed me on the lips. Her pulse increased--time for her to breathe. I inched her away as she kissed my cheek. She had a smile to match.

"I'll be better in no time."


End file.
